


The Prince and his Fairy

by TheScarletEyes



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Damini, Damini & Smaurent, Fluff, Fluff with a dark undertone, Gen, Magic AU (but not really), POV Third Person Omniscient, Pre-Canon, Smaurent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:02:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27525052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheScarletEyes/pseuds/TheScarletEyes
Summary: Damen did find something in the woods, but it was not a monster. There was still one semi-recognizable structure there. Weathered down and cracked, it looked to be the ruins of a large pillar. What Damen saw in that clearing, sat on the marble base of that old pillar, was a small creature. The creature was of blue and white and gold, and it was so beautiful that Damenknewit must be magic.***There was a time before the war when both Damen and Laurent were at Marlas...
Relationships: Damen & Laurent (Captive Prince)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 29
Collections: Captive Prince Secret Santa 2020





	The Prince and his Fairy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vaskianmountains](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vaskianmountains/gifts).



> Hello!  
> So this is supposed to be set at some point before the war. Vere and Akielos try at peaceful negotiations and both sides bring their families along as a sign of goodwill.  
> I hope you like it!

The first time Damen went to the border, he was still a child, even though nobody treated him a such. He was, after all, the crown prince of Akielos, heir to the throne of a country whose borders saw constant conflict and was always on the brink of war. His father had been making him attend his generals’ meetings for some time now. The Master at Arms had told him he was ready to start using real swords in place of the blunt-edge training ones. He could even ride a full-grown horse, though he still needed a stepping stool for that.

But little Damen, despite being happy under his father’s attention and of his accomplishments in his combat training, was still a ten-year-old boy. And he was bored. He’d been stuck on a horse or in a carriage for the past month as they journeyed from the capital to the border. So, when they finally set up camp at their destination, Damen waited for his opportunity to sneak away from it. A good thing about the long journey from Ios to the north is that it left everyone – his father, his tutors, and his caretakers – too exhausted to keep an eye on him at all times.

So, Damen waited. And when the servants and the slaves were setting up the camp, the guards were checking the lay of the land and discussing guard patrol, when his father and brother were in meetings preparing for the upcoming negotiations with the Veretians. When everyone was too busy, or too distracted, or too tired, that’s when Damen snuck away.

He made his way to the edge of the clearing, and when he crossed the tree line and stepped into the woods proper, he realized that the trees were very dense.

Now, another child, younger and less trained in the art of survival, might easily get lost in this place. But Damen was a big boy, and he was a smart boy. He knew how not to get lost. He made sure to clearly mark his path by leaving scratches on tree trunks. It only took a few minutes for him to no longer be able to see or even hear the royal camp. The trees were now even more closely grown, with thick bushes on the ground between them, some even taller than he is, and he was tall for his age. Damen left deeper scratches. 

Those scratches would make it very easy for someone, say, one of his father’s guards, to track him down after they discovered he was missing, but Damen didn’t worry about that. Damen didn’t even think about it.

What Damen thought about was how nice it was to have a break to enjoy himself. He thought about his father and whether he would be worried when he didn’t find him in his tent, about what kind of adventure awaited him within these woods. Will he find a treasure, a wise old man to tell him his destiny, or maybe a monster he would need to slay? He hoped it was a monster, then he could brag about it to his best friend, Nikandros. He wished Nik were with him.

While Damen’s mind was occupied with fantastical tales of magical creatures and heroic monster-slaying, he didn’t notice the trees were starting to thin until he broke the tree line and found himself in another clearing. Much smaller than the one the Akielon camp was set up in, this clearing was surrounded on all sides by evergreens, the ground covered with lush grass. It looked as if it had not been touched in years. 

But the moment Damen had entered the clearing, his attention was caught by what was in the middle of it. There, a few feet away from the edge of the clearing, was what looked to the remains of a large stone structure, destroyed beyond recognition. The ruins were made of chunks of stone of all shapes and sizes, haphazardly stacked or strewn around. Any sharp edges there might have been had long ago eroded to smooth rock. 

Damen did find something in the woods, but it was not a monster. There was still one semi-recognizable structure there. Weathered down and cracked, it looked to be the ruins of a large pillar. What Damen saw in that clearing, sat on the marble base of that old pillar, was a small creature. The creature was of blue and white and gold, and it was so beautiful that Damen _knew_ it must be magic.

It was, obviously, not magic. There was no magic in Damen's world, no matter how many stories he read or great epics he heard about it. What he found was Prince Laurent, second son of King Aleron of Vere, Akielos’ sworn enemy, with which the current border conflict was. But Damen did not know that. He had, naturally, never met the younger prince of his enemy country, and he was so caught up in his adventure that he never entertained other options.

Laurent was crying. He wanted his brother, Auguste, to come and find him like he always does when Laurent runs away from his nursemaid to feed and play with the horses. He missed Auguste, and that made him cry more.

What Laurent really wanted was to go back home to Arles so he can read his books. He didn’t know why he needed to accompany his family south to the border. Reading in the carriage made him sick, and by the time they set up camp for the night, he would already be fast asleep, wrapped in a blanket by his nursemaid, and then placed on the cot in his tent. Sometimes Auguste would kiss him on his forehead on his way back to his own tent, much later, and much more tired. Sometimes Laurent woke up to Auguste tucking him in. Most of the time, Laurent just slept.

Laurent was scared. He was lost in the middle of nowhere and he was very, very scared. He was telling himself that Auguste would save him. Auguste was going to save him because Auguste would never let anything bad happen to him. So he stayed put and waited for his brother to come for him.

But it was another boy who came to Laurent, an older boy. He hoped that this strange boy with his foreign clothes and funny words might know how to go back to the camp, where his brother was. And for a moment, Laurent stopped crying.

“Are you a fairy?” Damen smiled.

The creature looked at Damen. Damen was almost vibrating with excitement. A real-life fairy! Nik was going to be so jealous. 

Damen kept talking to the fairy, asking him questions: where was he from? What was it like, being a fairy? Did he have magic? Did he understand what Damen was saying? It was clear to Damen that he didn't. The fairy started crying again.

Damen was flustered. He didn't know what to do when someone cried. Damen didn't cry. He was a prince.

Damen did cry, but he was always told he shouldn't. He was a _prince_ after all, and he was a big boy now, wasn't he? Even when he was being comforted by one of his nursemaids, they always reminded him of that. And that was what Damen was doing for Laurent right now. He was comforting him the only way he knew how.

“Shh. Don't cry little fairy, don't cry.” Damen was sure the fairy didn't understand him. "Why are you crying? Do you want to go home? I can help you get there if you want to." He climbed up to where the fairy was sitting. It required some clambering over slippery rocks. There was a stone ledge almost level with where the fairy was sitting. Damen hoisted himself up onto it and next to the fairy.

Even though Laurent didn't understand what the boy was saying, he was still comforted by his soft words. When Laurent stopped crying and the boy patted him gently on the head, he knew he did something good. And he wasn't so scared anymore.

But he was still sad, so he said “I want Auguste. I want my _maman._ ”

Damen recognized the fairy’s language. He wondered if all fairies spoke Veretian, or if this was a Veretian fairy that might have unknowingly crossed the border. Damen was almost right.

Damen asked his question again, this time in Veretian.

“Are you a fairy? Are you lost?” But Damen didn't have the word for fairy. It was never a part of his education. Neither was the word for magic. His learning of the language was strictly utilitarian, out of necessity, not for fantasy stories, and certainly not for conversing with fairy princes. So Damen used his own words.

Laurent did not understand the boy's strange words, at least, he didn't understand what it meant to be a 'brownie,' so he answered the second part of the question.

“Yes,” Laurent said.

“How did you get here? Do you remember where you came from?” The boy's words were slow and clumsy. Laurent didn't know why he was talking in that way.

Laurent's answer was a vigorous shake of his head. He was lost and he was scared, but he was not scared of the boy sitting next to him.

“Aimeric was so mean to me. I was reading my book and…” Laurent hiccupped. “… then I ran away, but I dropped it in the woods and couldn’t find it, and now I don’t know how to go back, and I–” Laurent was too choked up on tears to carry on speaking.

Damen hadn't meant to make the fairy cry again. He barely understood what the fairy said for him to start crying. So he kept asking him questions because he thought those helped.

“Who’s Aimeric? Is he your brother?” Damen didn’t know that not all older brothers were mean to their siblings.

“No!” The fairy made a face at that. “He’s the son of one of _papa_ – one of father’s friends, and he’s not a nice boy. He made fun of my hair.”

“I like your hair,” Damen said. Damen, it was safe to say, liked everything about Laurent. He was so charmed with 'the fairy’s' hair that he was tempted to run his hands through the golden locks but was too afraid he might spook his fairy away.

Laurent had never said this to anyone; he didn't want to cut his hair because he wanted to look more like his brother. He wanted to wear his hair like Auguste did, but it was still too short and too soft and knotted too easily to be held by a leather band.

Laurent was glad the boy liked his hair.

Laurent giggled, wiping away at his eyes. “I like your hair too,” he blurted out. Laurent had no reservations against touching Damen's hair, however. “It’s curly.” Laurent’s whole face flushed red, even the tips of his ears became a light pink. Damen was fascinated by all the different colors Laurent could get. He’d never read about any fairies who could do that.

“Thank you.” Damen also blushed but his was a lot less noticeable. “How about we go look for that book?”

“Yeah?” Laurent looked up at Damen’s smiling, dimpled face.

“Yeah.” Damen jumped down the stone ledge he had climbed and held his hand out to Laurent, his fairy.

They did not know that the ruins they sat on were those of an ancient kingdom, long dead, the pillar that of a pantheon honoring a nameless god, long forgotten. They did not know that the kingdom once spanned both of their warring countries, and more. They did not know that the people who now considered themselves enemies, lived side by side, once, as brothers, as lovers, as friends.

They did not know, but it wouldn’t have made a difference. Because Laurent put his smaller, paler hand in Damen’s outstretched one and stepped down from the base of the pillar, and into the woods, in search of his book.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr: [@do-not-feed-the-archivist](https://do-not-feed-the-archivist.tumblr.com/)!


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